


Homecoming

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Challenge Response, M/M, Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-02-14
Updated: 1999-02-14
Packaged: 2018-11-11 03:04:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11139840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived atDue South Archive. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDue South Archive collection profile.





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Disclaimer: This piece has been written solely for the enjoyment  
of its readers (and the author) 

 

****

Disclaimer: This piece has been written solely for the enjoyment of its readers (and the author). No infringement of copyrights has been intended.

Many thanks to the members of the beta reading panel \- Mitch Hudson, The WolfWalker, Elaine Walker, PJ, Raa, Kathy Martin and Liquid Review - for generously setting aside time to give feedback and moral support. 

Thank you, Mitch Hudson, for boosting my self-confidence. I would have missed a hell of a writing experience if I had just stayed "chicken". Writing my very first long slashy story was difficult; but also lots of fun, and very rewarding. A wonderful challenge. 

This piece of fiction goes against canon, as the character of Ray Vecchio goes undercover as David Spirelli. 

There is blood (and possibly a death) towards the end of this series. You have been warned. 

As always, please be merciful. 

 

HOMECOMING

by Renny Ramos

BOOK ONE

1 

"Stop! Stop! That tickles!"

Your laughter drifts through the walls of my room, and I can't help but smile to myself. It's another weekend, and that could only mean one thing. 

The Vecchio kids have got you pleading for your life again, haven't they, Benny?

"Stop tickling me! I give up, I give up! I'll tell you a story ..."

I have to hand it to them. They really know which buttons to push.

Hmmm. What's that? "Horton Hatches the Egg"? One entire morning of playing horsey and hide-and-seek; and now, you're playing Dr. Seuss? Oh, boy. They've really suckered you this time.

Ah, but who cares? As long as you're happy. I actually envy the kids, you know. I see you with them; and it's just like ... oh, I don't know. Like lifting a veil, and seeing a whole new side of you. You're not cool or composed, the way you usually are. You're a child full of wonder and delight, playfulness, laughter ... 

You're just so alive.

Are you this way because they make you forget you're alone? Or you just don't want them to be unhappy, the way you were as a child?

I used to think you were a yutz, you know. A bit loopy. Now I know better.

And the kids ... God, they're just crazy about you! Hell, they're never like this with any of my friends -- just you. I guess they just know when a person's all good inside. They can always sense a kind soul. 

And you're just as in love with them. Any other guy would have scampered off to safety at the thought of babysitting; not you, though. It's unbelievable. I mean, you actually want to spend your weekends in my home, with a bunch of Vecchios; when you could date just about all the women in Chicago lusting after you!

Well, maybe you ARE a bit loopy.

I step out of my room, towards the living room; and I just have to shake myself at the sight that greets me. You're there, bunched up on the couch with an entire platoon of Vecchio children gathered around you like disciples to a guru; still and silent, absorbing every word and sound you utter. Unbelievable. Even Ma can't make them sit still that long!

I hear your voice croak, and I know it's time to rescue you from the little monsters.

"So, how are you doing?"

"I think I just sprained my tongue, Ray."

"Ah, too bad. You'll never be a hip-hop artist that way."

"Hip-hop?"

I should have known that was coming. Oh, well. 

"Never mind. Would you like some water?"

"Yes, please. Thank you kindly."

When I return, I find you sleeping with your adoring disciples; the faintest trace of a contented smile upon your lips.

Ah, Benny.

If only I could make you happy, too ... 

Could I?

I slip back into my room and get the book. You love books, don't you? You've said so yourself. I saw this in a bookstore the other day and it just reminded me of you. Of us, actually.

I try to hide the thin slab of a book inside my jacket.

God, you'd better not have a copy of this one!

The book you held in your hand falls to the floor with a soft, light thud and you wake up. I see your face break into a yawn as you stretch your limbs up and out, like a lazy cat. You see me, and you smile.

"Hi, Benny."

"Hello, Ray. I'm sorry, I must have fallen asleep."

I brush your apology aside with a shrug and a grin.

"Ah, don't worry about it."

Your eyes shine as you gaze at your disciples. 

"You know, I always enjoy being with them."

"I know, Benny."

Your right hand goes up to scratch briefly at your brow. 

"Do you think we should take them upstairs, to bed?"

I walk towards the window. Still light.

"Let's see. Tony and Maria won't be back until dinner time. Maybe we should take them upstairs. The bed's more comfortable."

"You're right."

"OK. Let's do it."

One by one, we bring each child up to bed. I can't help but shake my head and smile as you carefully tuck them in; I don't think I've ever seen anyone surround my nephews and nieces with teddy bears and dolls the way you do. Why, they look like troops, or a mini-platoon! Maybe even a fortress ...

You kiss the last of the troop, and we finally slip out of the room. I reach for my pocket, just as you pull the door shut. 

Now would be a good time ...

"Hey, I heard you reading to them. Nice choice."

"Thank you, Ray." 

"So ... you think you can read me a story one of these days? Like, right now?"

We stop in the middle of the stairs. You turn to face me, a questioning look upon your face.

"Dr. Seuss, you mean?"

"Ah, no. I've had my fill of Dr. Seuss for today." I reach for my pocket. "I was thinking about something else ... maybe something like this."

"What's this?"

"Go ahead, open it."

We sit at the landing of the stairs, and you carefully tear off the wrapping.

"Oh! It's 'The Little Prince' ..."

"Happy birthday, Benny."

I see your face flush with pleasure. 

"Thank you, Ray."

"I know it's a few days early, but ..."

"It's wonderful, Ray. Thank you."

"So, read me a story."

You look at me and grin. Your hands turn the page. With a deep breath, you begin. "Once when I was six years old ..."

Maybe I do know how to make you happy.

2

You know what? Sometimes, I ask myself, "Hey, Vecchio! Are you an idiot?"

You walk into my life, and suddenly I'm at your beck and call. I drive you around Chicago, I give you my money, I walk your Wolf, I feed your Wolf, I roll around in refuse and have maggots cling to me ... Hell, I even blew up the Riv for you! 

I must be nuts. 

And you ... YOU drive me absolutely nuts! 

I don't really care, though.

Because there's just something about you that makes me feel like laughing all the time.

Sure, I roll my eyes each time you pop me one of those Inuit stories that take an eternity to tell. And I yell at you whenever I walk into one of your landmine innocent questions or verbal rambling.

But I'm just being mean, you know. To be honest, I enjoy your stories and your questions and your rambling. Everything you tell me.

Especially when what you say takes an unexpected turn and you end up getting your foot caught in your mouth.

Today was an especially good one, thanks to that trip to the drugstore and those damned chocolate-scented condoms. Scented! Unbelievable. I mean, who comes up with those things?

Good thing I asked you.

"You know, Ray, there are studies that show a definite link between one's sense of smell and appetite. There are some scents, such as the scent of green apples that have been said to repress hunger. Now, the smell of chocolate, on the other hand, is widely believed to whet one's appetite; thus making one want to eat mo ..."

Your words freeze in mid-air and you turn as red as your Mountie duds.

Oh, man. This is just so rich!

Still, I try to put on a straight face and ask you.

"Well?"

"I think the Advil you're looking for is in THAT counter, Ray." 

Come to think of it ...

I just enjoy everything you are.

3 

What's wrong, Benny?

One minute you're fine. The next minute, I blink and you leave me in the dust; an idiot talking to myself. 

"What's going on?"

"Nothing. I just thought I, uh ... I thought I saw a woman I used to know."

"You thought she needed a vacuum cleaner."

"No ... I was mistaken."

I would have tossed out another smart-aleck comment for you to catch, except that I see something I've never seen before. A haunted look in your eyes. 

Something tells me that now is not a time for casual remarks.

Your eyes narrow and I see a flash of pain cross your face, just briefly. Then you turn to me and shrug. You try to smile. "Oh, well."

We walk back to the Consulate in silence. Given another time, this would have been ordinary. We've often done that, after all - just be quiet and still in each other's company. But I never felt sadness surround you in all those times, not like now. 

"How about dinner and football tonight at my place, Benny? Ma's cooking her specialty tonight."

I try to hide my concern as I look at you. 

What is wrong with you, Benny?

For a moment, you stare at me uncomprehendingly. You didn't hear me, did you?

"I said, how about dinner and football tonight at my place."

With a brave smile, you try to focus back on the moment. 

"Oh, thank you kindly, but ... I think I'd just like to stay home tonight."

"You look a little flushed. Are you feeling okay, Benny?"

Want to tell me all about that Mystery Woman of yours, instead of acting like a dumb martyr there? Tell me why you look so sad all of a sudden? 

Let me into your heart, just once?

You shake your head dumbly.

"I think I just ..."

"That's alright, Benny. Whatever you need."

Something tells me I might not enjoy hearing the truth.

4

A woman in your room. I don't believe it.

Still, I leave you with her; step out of your life so you could take that chance to love. 

I'd do anything just to make you happy. Even walk away. You know that, don't you? After all, your happiness is my own.

So, why do I feel so unhappy, all of a sudden?

5

"What's tonight, Benny?"

"Why, actually, it's Saturday morning, Ray ... oh, I'm sorry."

"Yeah ... don't worry about it. It was nothing special."

"No, I'm sorry. It's just that I forgot, I got caught up in some things and, uh ... Here's your money."

You don't get it, do you? It's not the damned money!

It's not the fact that you didn't pay me on time, Benny. And it's not the fact that you just turned me into the only idiot in the universe who fed his guests capers on his birthday. 

It's the fact that you never came, Benny. You, of all people! And I thought I heard you telling me once that I was your best friend.

I must have heard wrong. 

So, you choose my birthday to show me just how much you think of me and our friendship, huh?

"Like it makes a difference?"

"I meant to be there, Ray."

"So ... she in there?

"Yeah ... sorry. Do you wanna ... you wanna meet her?"

You think this changes everything? You think I'll let this slide now that you've handed me your lousy bill in my hand and some bland apology I'm not even sure you felt? 

You expect me to smile as you push me out of your life, on my birthday? 

You think I'm your own Personal Idiot? 

Fuck you.

"Nah, don't do me any favors. Wouldn't wanna embarrass you, anyway."

I turn and walk away from you, get away before I say anything else.

I've had enough. I don't want to be hurt by you anymore.

You catch me a few blocks down. Damn this red light! 

"I'm sorry, Ray."

"Yeah."

Now get away from me, Fraser.

"It's just that I, uh ... I made a mistake once and I can't make it again. You know I ... I think there are certain things that you'd live to regret. Losing your friendship would be one of them, and losing her ..."

Your head jerks up sharply as you hear the sound blasting through the night.

"Gunshot ..."

6 

It's just like I said. "And I thought this woman was going to come between us."

We're trapped in a hell we don't deserve but will probably end up in, anyway. You know what? I honestly don't know how we'll get through this. 

She's got you good, Benny. And she wants me to go down with you. 

"You should take the deal."

"I haven't been offered one."

"You should take it, anyway."

I'm a hairline away from prison and bankruptcy. My house is up on mortgage for your bail ... I know you said you won't run away, but I can see it in your eyes. You'll probably run off with her at the first chance you get.

My mind tells me to run before it's too late.

But I listen to my heart just the same.

"Hey, Benny ..."

"Not in your lifetime." 

7

You're a bastard, you know that?

I should hate your guts and leave you here to die.

What is it with you? You were going with her! And you were going to leave me without my home, my honor.

How stupid can you get, man? How could you continue loving her after she set both of us up like that?

How could you do this to me?

She doesn't love you! I ...

I'd put my possessions and reputation at stake ... Hell, I'd even kill to protect you, Benny. I'd do all these, even if I'm not sure you'd do the same for me.

I could have finished everything in that moment, you know. Protected you for good. I had a good aim. I had an excuse - she was a criminal, dammit! And she was going to destroy you. 

But you placed yourself in the line of fire; and now, it's you who's dying, by my own hand.

Your blood ... Oh, God ... it's slowly seeping onto the pavement and I see the glazed look in your eyes; the one I've seen so often in people just before they die. 

You start mumbling. 

You know you're dying, don't you? You're trying to keep yourself awake because you know that if you close your eyes, you'll never see life again.

Don't do this to me, Benny!

I don't know what I'll do if you don't pull through. I won't be able to live, knowing I was the one who killed you.

I'll forgive your betrayal. I'll even let you hate me, walk away from my life forever. Just don't let me lose you this way.

Please. Please live.

8

Do you know what your flaw is? You care too much.

Who are you really protecting, huh? Yourself? Me?

You try to hide beyond that damned polite Mountie mask each time. Do you think you could fool me with that? Do you actually believe I don't know what happens when you say you're tired, you just don't feel like talking right now and you turn away from me?

You can't stay awake forever. That's why I know. I watch you when you're finally asleep, and that's when I see the trail of tears on your face; the one you try to hide from me each time.

The doctors say you'll live. I wonder, though. Maybe it would have been better if I had just killed you.

Because I know she still haunts you, and I'm powerless to stop her.

I'm there when she comes for you in your sleep and you try to run --- away from her or towards her, I don't know. All I know is, you call out her name, over and over. And you cry.

The sun returns, you wake up, and you're back inside your shell of politeness; the one you've hidden in practically all your life.

You were once so alive. Why don't you put up a fight now?

I'd ask you if I could; but hell, I don't even know if you've forgiven me. Have you, Benny? 

One thing I'm sure of, though.

I'd rather die than have her destroy you.

9

I suppose I should be thankful. I could be out on the streets this minute, pretending it never happened and silently going out of my mind. Instead, I'm in therapy.

So, here I am in my therapist's office at three in the afternoon, trying to find healing. Some healing. Is this what healing's supposed to be? Two hours of ripping the past out of me, when all I want is to forget?

In some way, I pity my therapist. I know she means well, and she's been trying very hard. But I just can't talk anymore. I don't need this. 

"The shooting team cleared you. That must have been reassuring."

"Yeah."

"How is he?"

"They found the bullet in the T-8 vertebrae, wherever that is."

"The thoracic region."

"It was too close to the spine. They didn't wanna risk taking it out."

"I'm told that he's expected to recover fully."

"Yeah."

She doesn't get it. No one does. But I know what I need. I need your forgiveness, Benny. The problem is, I'm too afraid to ask for it. 

"Have you talked to him about any of this?"

"He's barely conscious."

"Then you don't know how he feels."

"Look, what's to know? I shot him, alright? He's fine, I'm fine, we're all fine! Alright?"

I know you're trying very hard not to show it, but I know it's there. I can feel your anger pushing me away.

"You know you can leave, Ray. I mean, you don't have to come here everyday ... You have a job, you should go to work ... You're in his chair ... No, thank you. You've ... you've done more than enough."

I hear those words and I wince inwardly. Is that your way of saying, "Thanks for nothing, you son of a bitch?"

You hurt me, too, don't you remember? 

It's so difficult to forget what happened, but all I care about is for us to put this behind us. I'm already swallowing my pride, can't you see that?

The least you can do is meet me halfway and forgive me, too.

10

Here goes nothing ... again.

"Ah!"

"It's a power saw."

"So it is."

"Top of the line, guaranteed not to rust, with a lifetime guarantee."

"What's it for?"

"Your dad's cabin? I thought we'd go up there and I'd help you rebuild it."

"Oh. Ray, you hated that cabin."

"No, I didn't. I hated leaving it to go the can, which brings me to ... this! Pick one, my treat."

"Ah, you really don't have to do this."

"Trust me, I do, okay?"

"So ... what? I figured we'd go up there two, three weeks. You'd get back your health and I'd kill three, maybe four thousand mosquitoes ... I'll get that one. Ah, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. Hold on ... You okay?"

"Yeah, just a little tired."

I try to look for that response in your eyes, the one I've grown accustomed to these past weeks. The one that says, leave me alone. 

"You want me to go?"

"No."

I smile at you -- God, I never thought I'd smile again. 

"It is pretty cool."

I sit and fool around with your wheelchair, try and find the courage to finally say the words I've been meaning to say for the longest time. 

Say it. 

"I'm thinking it'd be good that we go up there for a while ..."

I'm so afraid ... no.

Say it.

The words slip out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

"... try to put Victoria behind us."

You freeze at my words, and your hand drops limply to your chest. 

"You know, it'll be like a do-over. You know, like a fresh start. Right?"

Slowly, I see the forgiveness in your eyes. 

"Right."

And I just laugh. Now I know. 

There was no need for me to feel scared at all. I only had to ask, didn't I? I only had to ask. 

11

Oh, God. This bullet wound hurts like hell!

I thought you were on leave? You should have told me you'd still be in "Super Mountie" mode. I could have gotten myself a bulletproof vest or something. 

But I don't really mind at all, actually. All that matters is that you're safe.

I won't even think twice about doing this again for you, Benny.

12

"Yow! That hurts! You're gonna pay for this, sis! This is fine Italian footwear!"

"Then stop bugging me before I really drill a hole in your shoe! Yoo-hoo, Benton!"

I try to ignore the throbbing pain caused by the stiletto heel Frannie just smashed down on my foot. Great birthday gift.

I watch you from afar and smile in spite of the pain. There's nothing more amusing than seeing the RCMP's chick magnet squirming from female temptation. 

Jill would have loved this if ... oh, well. 

You know, I liked her for you. She's okay. She's stubborn like you said, but she's got a sharp mind. And I could tell she cared a lot about you. 

She told me, actually.

" ... but we're just better off as friends."

"How come?"

"He's not ready."

"It's been over a year ..."

"Yes, I know. But he's still not ready to move on. I don't think I'd want to be in a one-way love affair. It's enough that we're friends."

"I know he cares about you."

"Yes, I know he does. But it's not me he really wants. He thinks he loves me, maybe that's why he proposed that one time. But ... you know him better than I do, Ray. You should be able to see it, too. He still loves her."

My thoughts turn to that moment, just a week ago. Exactly one year to the day she came back into your life. 

I should have known why you were on leave that day. 

I dropped into your apartment that night, right after work; only to find you huddled in the darkest corner of your room, weeping.

"Benny ..."

"I'm sorry, it's just ... I still miss her ... oh, God."

And I held you in my arms to comfort you, until you fell asleep. 

I look at you now, and the thought that crosses my mind just stuns me.

I could hold you in my arms for the rest of my life and it still wouldn't be long enough.

Oh, God.

I can't think about this now. Not on my birthday. 

I'll have to face this some other time. 

13

I've never really cared about seeing you buck-naked, Benny. I understand why just about every female in Chicago wants you in bed. You're exceptionally handsome, even I know that. But you and me ... same parts, same accessories ... and you're my best friend, for God's sake! Why should I care at all, right?

It's not as if I've never seen you without any clothes on. Remember that time in the hospital when we were running after Geiger and I had to hold your hospital gown from behind? I saw a sight every woman would have died for, but I didn't care.

So, why can't I take my eyes off you right now?

I mean, I've seen you like this hundreds of times. It's a common sight, actually. We play baseball or basketball, or we run together. Then we go to your apartment or my house, and we take turns at the shower. I've seen you in after-bath situations wearing nothing more than a fresh, lemon soap scent and I never cared.

But now, you're in front of me, all damp and pink and smelling oh-so-good and you're running your hand through your wet hair and you've got nothing on except jeans you haven't gotten round to fully closing and ...

I'm thinking that I wouldn't mind at all if I made love to you right now.

This is not good.

14

I'm tired of walking around these streets night after night, trying to find out what the hell is wrong with me.

This has never happened before. 

I've had women in my life, you know. Angie, Irene ...

I just never thought it would be you I'd love the most.

What am I saying?

They say that partners can't help but form such a deep bond because of all the time they've spent together, and everything they've been through. Maybe that explains why I feel this way. It's the bond we have with each other, isn't it?

I look at myself in the mirror these days, and all I can see in my eyes is fear. I'm a cop and cops don't feel afraid, right? At least, they're not supposed to. But I'm scared as hell.

I can't stop thinking about you, Benny. About us.

I don't know how I feel about you anymore. I don't even know who I am anymore.

Why is this happening?

I lie awake for hours and wonder how I ever got myself into this mess. How could I have allowed this to happen? I could have put an end to this before things got out of hand, couldn't I?

I pray everyday, not just to God; but to the Blessed Mother and all of my favorite saints - God, I've never prayed so hard in my entire life - and I ask them to take away my feelings for you. Because feeling like this is wrong - at least, that's what I've been taught. I've heard that one could burn in hell for this. But I just don't know anymore. My heart used to tell me this was wrong, until you came along.

How could loving someone as good as you be wrong?

I visit the church everyday to offer flowers to the Blessed Mother. I know it's just a statue of Her; but to me, she's real, you know - like Ma. And I pray the rosary three consecutive times. Twice each day. That's like talking to her. And I beg her to intercede for me; to stop this test, if this is a test.

Because I know I won't have the strength to stop loving you, Benny.

15

Welsh invited me to his office today. He wants me to go undercover. He says I performed brilliantly during the NAFTA deal, and he trusts that I'll handle this assignment well. That and the fact that I'm a dead-ringer for that Mob leader, David Spirelli.

Spirelli's on Witness Protection now; he's going to teach me all about becoming him. I've got a few months to learn everything I can before I go undercover.

If we're lucky, we'll bring down a drug ring. If not, I lose my life. What do I say? "Sure." I mean, what else is there to say? I'm a cop. It's my duty to enforce the Law, right? Plus, it's going to get me promoted.

But really, the truth is, I just want to hide.

Because this can't go on.

I can't continue acting like this, pretending to be your best friend when all I want is to be your lover. Pretending I support your new lease on love when all I want to say is, "Why can't it be me instead of her?"

You tell me all about inviting Thatcher over for coffee in your calm, non-descript way. But I see the slight, upward curl of your lips and the dance of life back in your eyes. You're finally beginning to love again, aren't you?

So I smile and tease you, like any best friend would. I say, "Way to go, Benny!" even when I feel all dead inside.

Because the truth hurts, Benny. I love you, you don't love me. At least not in the way I want you to. And even if I had the courage to tell you how I feel, I don't think I can bear hearing your answer. I know what you'll say, anyway. 

What did I hear you say once? "If you know who you are, there's no need to hide."

Well, I don't know who I am anymore. All I know is I love you, and I don't know what that means. The world doesn't understand; I can't say I do, either. 

So I run.

16

Preparing for this assignment has taken me away from you.

I'm glad.

I'd leave, and my secret would still be safe.

17

I knew I wouldn't be able to keep my leaving a secret from you for long. After all, you're the one who knows me best.

You ask me what's going on and you look at me so honestly ...

So I tell you.

I see your face turn all white. You open your mouth to speak, but not a word comes out. 

"I understand." 

18

It gets harder to speak each day. I'm running out of words to sugarcoat the truth. There's nothing sweet about goodbyes, at all.

You try to pretend as if nothing's changed; try to show me you'll be fine.

I'd believe you if I could.

Only I see your smile getting thinner with every day that passes.

19

You stood before me, all wet and shivering. You came in from the cold, past the unrelenting fury of the rain outside. 

"Jeez, Benny! What the hell are you doing?" 

I pulled you by the arm and guided you into the house. 

"Come on. Let's go upstairs to my room and find you a change of clothes."

"I'll ... I'll get your house all wet."

"Hey, I'd rather have a wet floor than a dead Mountie. Don't worry about it. We'll clean everything up later."

20

You sat motionless on the edge of my bed, head bent, your hands on your lap. I knelt in front of you, took the towel from your hand and started rubbing it against your arms. 

"What's wrong, Benny?" 

I raised my head to look at you. 

"Oh, God. Benny, no. Don't cry, please." 

I found myself touching the back of your hands with my fingers then; tracing the slight indentations where the veins lay. Feeling your flesh, all ice and tremors. You closed your eyes as I moved to cup your face in my hands. I ran my forefinger against your lashes, felt the tip come into contact with your tears.

"What's wrong?"

You spoke to me softly, your voice trembling and unsure like a child caught in his tricks. "You once told me I should stand up for myself," you said. "To fight for what I want. Well, I'm doing it now."

You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, as if you wanted to calm yourself. You then opened your eyes to look at me. Then you uttered a miracle.

"I don't want you to leave. I want you to stay. I love you."

No.

"I can't. We both know that." 

My hands left your face as I rose. I walked away from you and sat in the chair next to the window. I buried my head in my hands. You followed, and knelt in front of me. 

We remained silent for a long time, until you spoke in a voice I could not believe was yours -- soft, yet filled with urgency. 

"Then give me this night," you whispered.

I rose from the chair, and gently pulled you to your feet. We embraced tightly. I felt the warm, erratic spell of your breathing against my neck. I pulled away from you briefly. I swear, I could just drown in the blue of your eyes. 

We kissed.

21

Naked against each other now, I draped my body over yours and you held me tightly; as if you were afraid you'd lose me if you let go. I brushed the damp strands of hair away from your forehead and looked at you.

Close your eyes. I don't want to see the sadness in them.

We said nothing to each other in those last hours; instead, we let our bodies reveal our love. We kissed gently and chastely, like new lovers. I ran my fingers lightly against your parted lips, now swollen from my deep explorations. 

God, I love you so much.

The touch of your skin, the taste of your sweat as I ran my tongue against your body. I never knew I hungered for you that much. And you responded with your own fevered need; your body straining to chase the source of your pleasure. I closed my hand, my mouth around you, and you followed - matching each rhythm, following the warmth and the heat.

I listed to your ragged breathing, and the incoherent sounds that escaped your lips. Nothing would ever match the sweetness of our song.

I'll love you forever.

You gave up the fight with a long, drawn cry; and you finally surrendered and died in my love.

I remember lying in your arms after it was all over, thinking "I am home."

God, it was so real.

Why must it be just a dream?

22

Tomorrow, when I step out into the world, I'll be a different man.

God, I'm so afraid.

23

You're so quiet, Benny.

I can't stand it.

"How about an Inuit story, eh, Benny? One for the road?"

Maybe then, I won't have to listen to the pain in my heart.

You lick your lips quickly, and smile briefly at me. "Are you sure you really want to hear one?"

"Sure, I'm sure."

"How about a different story? Would that be alright?"

"Well, okay."

You stare out the window once more, and you look at the streets - our streets. From early morning until nighttime, we walked through them today - one last time. You sigh deeply, and you begin. You draw the words out from deep within your soul, as if from memory. And you whisper them to me in the softest, saddest voice I've ever heard you speak. Our story.

"There was a little prince who left his own little world on a journey. On his way, he met a fox. He told the fox, 'Come, play with me. I am so unhappy.'"

"The fox said, 'I cannot play with you, for I am not tamed.'"

"The little prince asked him what that meant, and the fox replied, 'It is an act too often neglected. It means to establish ties. Just that. To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is like a hundred thousand other little boys. We have no need of each other. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. It will be as if the sun came down to shine on my life. The sound of your steps shall call me out of my burrow. The color of your hair shall remind me of the grain-fields down yonder. I shall remember you each time I look at the grain-fields, and I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat.'"

"The fox looked at the prince for a long time. And then he said, 'Please - tame me!'"

"The little prince asked him what he must do. The fox said, 'You must be very patient. First, you must sit down at a little distance from me - like that - in the grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings. But you will sit closer to me, every day.'"

"Next day, the little prince visited the fox, who said, "It would have been better to come back at the same hour. If, for example, you came at four o' clock in the afternoon, then at three o' clock, I shall begin to be happy. I shall feel happier and happier as the hour advances. At four o' clock, I shall already be worrying and jumping about. I shall show you how happy I am! But if you come at any time, I shall never know at what hour my heart is to be ready to greet you. One must observer the proper rites."

"The little prince tamed the fox. When it was time for him to depart, the fox said, 'Ah, I shall cry.'"

"'It is your own fault,' the little prince answered. 'I never wished you any harm; but you wanted me to tame you.'"

"'Yes,' the fox replied."

"The Little Prince said, 'You are going to cry! Then it has done you no good at all!'"

"But the fox said, 'It has done me good, because of the color of the wheatfields.'"

"Before the little prince left, the fox told him a secret. 'It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye. Men have forgotten the truth, but you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.'"

You turn to me, and I see the faintest trace of dampness on your cheeks. You bring your hand into your pocket, draw out a compass and place them in my hand.

The Inuits say that one's most treasured possessions carry with it the thoughts and wishes of the owner. My father gave this compass to me when I made it into the RCMP. I never used this one ... I'd like you to have it."

"If you find yourself lost in the wilderness and you can't find your way back, the love of your friends and family will bring you home. We'll wait -" and your voice broke. "I'll wait for you, Ray."

I love you, I love you, I'm dying here.

I reach back to unclasp the chain that held my Father's cross, the cross of my faith. I bring my necklace around your neck. 

I hold you tightly, try to put all my love in that embrace. 

"He'll protect you while I'm gone, Benny. But I'll be back. I'll make sure of that."

\- End of Book One - 

03 November 1998

 

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